Seven Minor Epics of the English w/ Direct link technology (A Classic Story)

A willing guest, who purposely could wish Noother food, but such a well-grac't dish. Whiles thus poore Philos kisses, feeles and sees, Heauen-staining Licia opes her sparkling eyes, And askt the hopelesse Louer, if mornes eye Had out-stript night. Philos made answer, I. And thus the Louer did continuallie: For why, such lustre glided from her eie, Which darkt the Sun, whose glory all behold, So that she knew not day, till some man told. Which office she to Philos had assign'd, Because she had him alwayes most in mind: Which had he knowne, he would not so haue spent The restlesse nights in drery languishment, Tumbling and tossing in his lothsome bed, To flie from griefe, yet that still followed. Then rising vp, and running here and there, As if he could outrun or lose his care; But being vp, and finding no reliefe, Lookt in his heart, and there he found out griefe. How cam'st thou hither (then amaine he cries) To kil my heart? Griefe answerd, Through his eyes.